i'm might just watch it right now instead of going to sleep

just your heart beating close to mine

for nurseydex week, day 2 - bed sharing

Nursey’s a clingy drunk.

Freshman year, Dex hated it. He and Nursey spend all their sober time bickering; fighting nonstop about everything from politics to slapshot form to whether ketchup belongs on scrambled eggs (Dex will never fucking admit it, but he’s actually started to find it delicious; Nursey can never know). But the second Nursey slips over the line from tipsy to drunk, he’s Dex’s best friend–hanging off Dex’s shoulders, draping his feet into Dex’s lap, hell, draping himself into Dex’s lap, two hundred pounds and then some of languid muscle. He’s sweet when he’s drunk, his chirps soft and fond instead of scathing, and his fingertips are gentle when they wander over Dex’s skin, dipping under the collar of his t-shirt, brushing against the short hair at the nape of his neck.

And Dex hated it, because morning would come, and hungover Nursey is clingy too but not in the same way, and they were always back to sharpness, and Dex would have to pretend he didn’t get home from those kegsters and throw himself into very, very cold showers.

Sophomore year, it’s a little better. They’re friends more often than they’re not, but on the flip side, that means the rest of the team actually trusts Dex to be on Nursey Patrol (“If you don’t want to kill him all the time, we can probably trust you to make sure he doesn’t drink himself into a coma,” Bitty said cheerfully the first time, shoved Nursey, already tipsy, towards him, and disappeared onto the dance floor with a solo cup in his hand).

Except Nursey Patrol, he learns, doesn’t end with the kegster. No, Nursey Patrol ends with Nursey safe in his bed, at least out of his shoes but ideally in something comfortable enough to sleep in, after a cup or two of water and two tabs of Aspirin, his phone plugged in and the door to his room locked.

(Dex does not want to know the series of events that led to this level of Patrol being in place. If he thinks about it too hard, his chest starts to hurt, and he doesn’t wanna deal with that.)


“Dexy,” Nursey says, as Dex manhandles him down to his bed and then flops down next to him, hauling Nursey’s foot into his lap to start on his shoelaces, because Three Cups of Tub Juice Derek Nurse is not a Derek Nurse who has the coordination for tasks involving dexterity. Dex had said that, once, and Nursey had said “ha, Dexterity,” and giggled for ten minutes. “Dex, will you stay with me?”

(read the rest on AO3, or read more below)

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Marry Me

Originally posted by gleefinn

Summary: Witch’s spells aren’t always a bad thing

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings: implied smut, maybe language because I can’t help it, otherwise straight fluff

A/N: this is for the lovely @jpadjackles double birthday challenge! I loved all the songs you chose for us, but this one will forever be one of my favorites! Hope you like what I did with it, and thank you for hosting!

A/N/N: Huge enormous thank you to my twin @deanssweetheart23 for listening to me whine, reading everything over and basically being the best damn support system a writer could ask for. Love ya, twin.

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Follow up to the Klance Shoujo AU Mini-comic. Please have these random plot scenarios (that I may or may not eventually draw, who knows oヮo;;)!

Scenario 1

Keith sprains his ankle at school, and Lance is about to approach him to help (having frantically searched for a bandage and other first aid things), but finds that someone else has already beaten him to aiding Keith. Lance watches for a short while, his jealousy brewing, and without Keith ever noticing, he stuffs the things he’d gotten for Keith into his bag and slips away quietly.

Keith is advised to stay in his room for the rest of the day but refuses because it’s one of the days when he meets with Mr. Blue. So he slips out of the Garrison dorms despite having some difficulty moving with his sprain and heads to the park. Lance, in the Mr. Blue costume, isn’t expecting him, of course, but does his best to not be found out. He and Keith talk as usual, and when it’s time to go, they both notice that Keith’s bandages had gotten loose (due to him rushing to the park). Mr. Blue brings out a fresh roll of bandages (the one Lance had kept with him since earlier) and wraps it around Keith’s ankle. Keith says that Mr. Blue must be magic to always have what he needs just at the right time, and Lance just silently smiles.

Scenario 2

Lance gets a bad fever on one of their meetup days and can barely move. Hunk tries to discourage him from heading to his part-time work (still unaware of the meetups with Keith), but Lance adamantly refuses, thinking of the fact that Keith has no way to contact Mr. Blue and might wait the entire afternoon. Lance manages to escape from Hunk and goes to the park in costume just as Keith is about to leave after waiting for almost an hour. While they talk, Keith thinks he’s acting weirdly, but Lance does his best to not reveal he is sick. Before they separate, Mr. Blue gives Keith his phone number, with Lance thinking it’s okay since Keith doesn’t know his number anyway.

Afterwards, Lance is near delirious from the fever on his way back to their dorm. He collapses a short distance away, but someone catches him before he crashes to the ground—Keith. Lance thinks it’s a dream, while Keith is immensely worried why Lance is walking around so ill. Since Lance can’t walk anymore and is barely conscious, Keith carries him on his back up to his dorm room, to a very surprised Hunk.

Rest of the scenarios under the cut!

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Touch-Starved II

So this got long. Prince kind of came in and stole the show, and then I realized that I had a whole to go before I reached the end. I hope you like it. Especially since there’ somehow 600 of you now, and that’s terrifying. So yeah, really hope this turned out all right. Also @slutsanders, tumblr is not letting me tag you for some reason. So if someone else could tag them that would be great. And please let me know if you want to try and tag you on the later parts as well. Anyway Part I is here. Part III Part IV

Anxiety was hiding.

He had been for the past three days. He’d been living off tap water and the granola bars he kept in his room, but unfortunately those hadn’t lasted very long, and now he was hungry. But if he wanted to get food, he’d have to go to the kitchen, where he might see the others.

Anxiety knew he couldn’t avoid them forever, but he didn’t know how to face them. Didn’t know how to face their newfound pity. Anxiety could admit it, he was scared. He’d gotten used to being alone, to being overlooked, and now that was changing.

Part of him wanted to be hopeful, to think that maybe this was a good thing. But mostly he was just scared. What if he got used to the attention and then once they deemed him “fixed enough” they left him alone again? Or worse what if trying to spend time with them made them realize why they were better off without him?

Anxiety curled up tighter on his bed. He wished he’d never said anything.Then nothing would have changed. It wasn’t like he needed physical contact anyway. Logic was wrong.

His stomach growled, and he cringed. While he may not have needed physical contact, he did need food. He glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The others were probably asleep. Maybe if he went now, he could grab some food and make it back without seeing anyone.

As his stomach growled again, Anxiety made up his mind. It was worth a shot. Carefully and quietly, he crept out of his room, cringing at the slight creaking of the door. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he made his way to the kitchen.

Not wanting to risk turning on the light, he began to grope around in the dark. He pulled more granola bars out of the pantry, as well as a loaf of bread, and a box of crackers. Setting them on the counter, he then moved to the fridge, hoping to at least grab some fruit.

But when he opened the fridge, he was stunned. Sitting on the middle shelf was a foil-covered plate with a note reading For Anxiety on top of it in Morality’s handwriting. He pulled it out, staring at it in disbelief.

Morality had left this, for him? Even though he didn’t know if Anxiety would even see it? Had he been doing this every night?

“You should eat that,” a voice remarked from behind. “Morality will be thrilled.”

Startled at the unexpected noise, Anxiety’s hands fumbled with the plate, and dropped it. It fell to the ground and shattered, the ceramic shards now scattered around his bare feet. He hissed in pain as some of them cut into his skin.

“Woah, easy there” the voice spoke up again. It was Prince.

A hand reached out to grab his shoulder, but Anxiety shrugged it away. He didn’t need this.

“I’m just trying to help,” Prince said exasperatedly, “Hold on, I’ll get the light.”

After a few moments and the sound of shuffling, Anxiety screwed his eyes shut at the sudden brightness as the lights flickered on.

“Well that looks bad,” Prince remarked, staring at Anxiety’s feet.

“No shit,” Anxiety muttered, staring at the ground.

Prince approached him cautiously. “Don’t freak out,” he told him.

“Why would I freak-“

But before Anxiety could finish asking his question. Prince’s hands were on his waist, swinging him up and over, depositing him on the counter. As soon as the hands loosened their grip, he jerked back, glaring at Prince.

Prince looked unrepentant.

“I needed to get you out of the way to clean this up,” he explained, “And I didn’t want to risk you stepping on any of it.”

Anxiety supposed he could see the sense in that. Grudgingly. He stayed still on the counter as Prince fetched a broom and pan and began sweeping up the mess. From the looks of it, Morality had made him chicken and peas. Anxiety regretted dropping the plate.

Once the mess had been swept up and thrown away, Prince turned back to Anxiety.

“Alright, Black Veil Bride,” he said, “Let’s get those cuts cleaned up.”

“I can do it myself,” Anxiety snapped, eager for this encounter to end.

Prince didn’t look impressed. “I’m sure,” he replied sarcastically, “But I have more experience treating injuries than you, and besides, it is somewhat my fault that you obtained them. Now hold still.”

Running a washcloth under some water, and grabbing a med kit from under the sink, Prince approached, picking up Anxiety’s right foot. Anxiety resisted the urge to squirm in discomfort. He was all to aware of Prince’s closeness, all too aware that this surge of concern was only motivated by pity.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Like in his last conversation with Logic, he felt almost frozen in place, staring as Prince gently wiped away the blood.

“These aren’t as bad as they looked,” Prince murmured. “They’re actually quite shallow. I’ll finish cleaning them out and then put some bandages on them.”

Anxiety had only meant to say sure, but what came out of his mouth was, “Why do you care?”

Prince looked up, frowning. “I know we don’t always get along,” he said, “But that doesn’t mean I’d leave you here bleeding.”

“Not- not just this,” Anxiety said, feeling as though the words were bubbling out of him with little conscious thought. “This whole thing, the whole touch thing. Why do you care? It’s not like it matters”

Prince’s grip on his foot tightened, before he let out a long slow breath.

“You know how I’ve rescued maidens from towers in the past?” he asked, seemingly quite randomly.

“Yeah?” Anxiety drawled, not sure where this was going.

“Do you know what they said the worst part of being in those towers was,” Prince said, now looking much more solemn than Anxiety was used to seeing him. “They said the worst part was the loneliness. The way they felt isolated from anyone and everyone. I remember one girl refused to let go of me for some hours, because she was afraid I’d turn out not to be real if she let go.”

“Okay, what does this have to do with me,” Anxiety asked, feeling slightly uneasy.

“Anxiety, you weren’t locked in a tower, but we did leave you alone,” Prince said softly. “We shouldn’t have. I, at least, should have known better. We may argue, but you’re still part of this family, you’re still under my protection. And I failed you. Please let me make it up.”

Anxiety could only stare. Prince looked genuinely remorseful. And pleading. His eyes begged Anxiety to say yes.

He didn’t need help though, really, no matter what Prince might think. But as he opened his mouth to tell him that, Anxiety couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead he just muttered, “Just finish bandaging my feet, I want to go to bed.”

“Of course,” Prince said, his eyes still watching Anxiety. “I’ll do that now.”

Sitting in uncomfortable silence, Anxiety watched as Prince cleaned and bandaged his feet. He was being surprisingly gentle, and Anxiety didn’t know what to make of it.

When he had finished, Prince stepped back. “There,” he said, “All done. You can go back to bed now. Although,” and here he hesitated, “It might still hurt a little to walk. I could- I could carry you if you like?”

“I can walk,” Anxiety snapped, but on seeing Prince recoil, he relented slightly.

“It’s not that bad,” he insisted, looking away. And then more quietly, forcing out the words. “But thanks for offering I guess.”

Prince smiled at him. “It’s no trouble,” he replied. “I’ll let you make your way back to your room now. Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow? It’s not the same, having no one to banter with.”

Anxiety groaned internally. He’d really be an asshole if he said no. He supposed he could make an appearance. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, hopping off the counter, suppressing a wince. Okay, that actually did sting a little.

“I’m glad,” Prince said, now looking much more cheerful. “Well then, good night, Anxiety.”

With his last words, he reached out to give a quick squeeze of Anxiety’s shoulder before drawing back, almost too quick for Anxiety to react.

“Night” Anxiety replied, aware that his face was tinted red. He was so tired of this bullshit.

He trudged back towards his room. But despite his wish to just go to sleep and forget everything, Prince’s words kept floating through his mind.

The worst part was the loneliness. You’re still part of this family.

Anxiety groaned, he still couldn’t believe how guilty Prince had sounded. And Logic had sounded the same when he’d last talked to him. He just didn’t get it. But they were so determined. It was ridiculous.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, reluctantly, I can indulge them a little. For their sake, not mine. Just enough so they wouldn’t feel so freaking guilty. Then everything would go back to normal.

Anxiety rolled over. He’d deal with this in the morning.

anonymous asked:

I'm a sucker for some good Marichat sleepover sin & fluff

Okay, I’m not technically taking prompts right now, but reading this ask gave me an idea, and I couldn’t say no, so…

“I haven’t looked.”

Adrien sat up slowly, rubbing his head and trying to make sense of where he was. “What happened?”

“Ladybug dropped you off here,” Marinette answered, facing towards the wall. “She said you umm… got hit by some catnip? She couldn’t stay, and she asked me to keep an eye on you.”

He slowly recognized the shapes of her furniture and the bits of photographs he’d seen before in the slivers of moonlight creeping from her windows. “Catnip?” His mind felt slow, as though every thought was fighting through a thick layer of fog to reach the surface.

“Yeah, she said it should wear off overnight. As soon as you, um… lit up, I made sure I didn’t look. Your identity is still safe.”

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tom-newsie-holland  asked:

OKAY BUT WHAT IF (this a request) NEWT X READER X STEPHEN SMUTFIC OKAY THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED. READER CALLS BOTH OF THEM DADDY (I'm dead) If you don't want to write this just let me know. I won't be upset at all 😊

Okay guys. Here is the promised NewtxReaderxStephen fic. I wasn’t able to get every single thing y'all wanted in it. I went where inspiration took me. This is the first threesome fic I’ve ever written, so yeah…I was like ‘the fuck is going on!!’ The entire time I was writing it lmao.

Hopefully, it came out decently enough. I didn’t proofread, I’m too lazy. So if there’s embarrassing mistakes, my bad. Also!!! I was so into NewtxStephen I may have made this gayer than expected…..if you ain’t into dudexdude leave now….like right now. Lol



Imagine: A threesome with Newt and Stephen.

Stephen sat idly by at the table, flipping through his cards and drawings. He seemed to be looking for something important, but really all he reached for was the silver lighter he stolen off a dead German soldier’s body. In the reality of it all, he would’ve never even thought of doing such a thing, but now, so deep into this war nothing seemed to matter.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.”

Your voice gained his attention, and he looked over at you lying on the bed next to Newt with a raised eyebrow. As if to spite you, he flicked the cap to the lighter up, never leaving your annoyed gaze as he scratched his finger over the switch and ignited his cigarette. He took one long drag, the burning sensation slowly settling his nerves.

“Go back to sleep.”

Stephen’s tone was exhausted, and you could tell he could use some sleep himself, but the lieutenant was hell bent on staying up every single night. There wasn’t much you could do though, truthfully you weren’t even supposed to be here. You spent months running from the war, you had lost your entire family, and if the German’s found you…you’d just end up right along with them. By luck or not, you came upon Stephen one night. You were hiding in the bushes before a dilapidated building, trying hard to hold your breath because you weren’t sure who was on the other side. Nothing helped though, and with a rough tug you found yourself pulled from the foliage and thrown to the ground by a British soldier. When the young man saw it was just a girl, he backed off, sighing heavily and looking back at his superior with a relieved nod. That young man, Newt, ended up becoming your lover, and in truth as handsome as he was, the very need for human affection is what drove you to him to begin with, Stephen just happened to…fall into the same relationship as you two eventually. All of you seeking the same thing, love in a time of hate.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

You scolded, rolling your eyes and snuggling back into Newt’s chest as he tightened his grip on you. The younger soldier was asleep already, head nestled between the crook of your neck as he breathed softly. Stephen just chuckled at your hurt tone, still smoking his cigarette without a care in the world. He flipped through the pages of a newspaper, half of it burned off from the fire that happened earlier today. Still, he read what he could if only to gain any knowledge he might not already have of the war.

“Come on.”

With your hand held out, you beckoned for the lieutenant to join you both, wanting him to rest at least an hour or two. Stephen seemed reluctant, but he removed the cigarette from his mouth walking over to the bed and setting it on the ash tray. He took a seat against the headboard, one leg still off the bed as the other bent slightly and allowed you to rest your head on his knee. He ran his fingers through your hair, humming a song to himself as you closed your eyes. You reached for his other hand, curling your fingers between his in comfort. He squeezed it gently, a sign that he was still very much here in every way.

“Stop bloody singing…”

Newt groaned in frustration, his tired eyes opening to glare up at his friend and superior. Stephen just scoffed at him, clearly having no intention to do as he was asked from someone much younger than him.

“How about you bloody fuck off, Scamander.”

Newt’s lips stretched into a grin, his green eyes softening when he tilted his head to look at you instead. “Hello, darling.”

“Morning, Newt.”

You leaned back a bit, kissing his cheek affectionately before going back to resting on Stephen’s knee.

“You’re on trench duty, Scamander.”

Newt sighed into your shoulder, kissing it lovingly as he glanced up at the lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.”

You watched them both carefully, smiling at the way they spoke to one another. It was obvious they both cared about each other, and truthfully, when you weren’t around you suspected they still shared a bed together. There were multiple times you had walked in and they would quickly make a distance between themselves. You didn’t understand why they felt the need to hide it from you of all people, the intimacies you’ve all shared in this very bed was beyond the realm of normal for most these days anyway.

From the corner of your eye you could see Stephen’s hand resting on the pillow next to Newt’s head, and you had no doubt he was giving the younger soldier the same affections he had been giving you earlier when he was running his fingers between your locks.

Newt nuzzled into your neck, kissing you a bit more passionately now as he nipped at your pulse. It was all too clear to you that Stephen had ignited a certain part of Newt that only came out in the privacy of Stephen’s tent, not that you had any complaints. The love you all shared with one another was something beautiful in your eyes, twisted as it may seem to others.

“Have your fun, Scamander. Then resume your duties.”

The lieutenant smirked down at Newt, still brushing his fingertips across the younger man’s hair as he riled him up for you. Newt seemed pleased with this, and he tugged you closer to his body as he pressed his lower abdomen against your backside. You could feel the hardened heat of his crotch pressing into you, Stephen’s touch having already gotten him more than aroused.

A gasp fell from your parted lips, and you instinctively pushed back into him, wanting more friction as the warmth between your legs began to build.


You half moaned his name out, still gripping Stephen’s hand in yours as he encouraged Newt to keep going. Which Newt was more than happy to do. He sucked just below your earlobe, knowing after many nights spent together that you were overly sensitive in that spot. He smiled into your heated skin, loving the way you squirmed in his hold. His hands slowly trailed down your front, unbuttoning the top of your dress as he slipped a hand inside.

The minute his roughened fingertips brushed across your nipple you arched back into him, letting out a long moan that conveyed just how badly you suddenly needed him. Newt pressed his lips into your cheek, whispering out sweet words as he ground his hips into you. The pressure alone was enough to make him want to cum, but Stephen scolded him to stop.

“Not yet.”

The lieutenant slid down the headboard, pushing himself up as he found a comfortable spot and laid down next to you. He turned on his side, now sandwiching you between both men the very heat from their bodies making you yearn for so much more.

You gripped Stephen’s uniform, pulling him down so he could kiss you. His lips smashed into yours, tongues tangling and fighting with one another for dominance that he easily gained over you.

Newt watched you both kiss, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried to control the raging desires he was feeling, but how could he when he saw just how needy you both were for this. Newt groaned deeply in want, going back to kissing your neck as he slid his hand up your thigh, pushing the material of your dress up as he exposed your panties. His finger dipped beneath the hem of them, pulling them off slowly as he bit down on your shoulder. His cock was aching terribly behind his pants, and if Stephen wasn’t going to further his relations with you yet, then he would.

Newt pulled away, the sound of his belt coming undone alerting you both. You looked back at him, biting down your lip as you waited for the younger man to take you. Stephen just chuckled at Newt’s eagerness, and he watched intently as his soldier pulled himself free of his restraints.

Newt’s cock was swollen with need, the head of it already leaking drops of cum as he stroked himself. He looked up at Stephen, a silent agreement between the two of them as Stephen grabbed your thigh and lifted it up. He laid it against his own leg, letting you wrap it around his waist as Newt settled himself behind you.

Stephen kissed you on the lips, smirking into them as you gasped loudly, and he used this to his advantage as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, cupping the lieutenant’s cheek as Newt had begun to thrust into you. His movements were quick, but hard enough to make your legs quiver from the force. The sound of his skin hitting you filled the room, and you whined and moaned into Stephen’s face at the feeling of being completely filled by the younger soldier.

Stephen licked his lips in arousal, eyeing his soldier as he fucked you senseless. If he could just sit and watch this forever he would, but his own need was becoming apparent to him. He needed some form of relief and he was going to get it from one of you. He inched his hand down, snaking it between your body and his as he found your clit. He rubbed at it, creating a rhythm that had you practically screaming at all the sensations.

You threw your head back against Newt’s shoulder, crying out as your body began to stiffen from all the pleasure. Stephen’s fingers worked you wildly, and Newt just kept slamming into you from behind like it was the last time he’d get to make love to you. It wasn’t something you thought you could handle for long, and if Stephen kept that pace up you would be finished in no time.

“Tell the lieutenant how much you like that…”

Newt grunted out, licking the shell of your ear as he smiled over at Stephen. The older man laughed at that, his eyes focused on his soldier as they both awaited your response. You mumbled out a sentence that none of them understood, but you were far too gone to respond coherently.

“You know, it’s considered insubordination if you ignore your superiors.”

Stephen rasped out, his nose pressing into your cheek as he quickened the movement of his fingers.


Newt grinned at your language, not used to hearing you talk like that except for in these moments. But, the very sound of your seductive voice made him just want to move harder, to give you so much pleasure you couldn’t walk for a week or two. He leaned over towards Stephen, his lips inches from his lieutenant’s as he spoke.

“Get inside her…”

Stephen gritted his teeth, the overwhelming desire to kiss the younger man clawing at the back of his mind. He eyed him warily, unsure of what to do, but he simply nodded, removing his hand from between you two and undoing his own belt. You watched with a shade of red on your cheeks as Stephen brought his fingers to his lips, ready to lap off whatever juices from you clung to them. But, Newt grabbed his hand, capturing Stephen’s attention as he leaned forward, green eyes gazing up at his lieutenant as he wrapped his warm tongue around them. He sucked down on Stephen’s fingers, bobbing his head, mimicking exactly what he’s done to him before in a much more intimate setting.

The lieutenant stared in disbelief, not really sure how he felt about Newt doing this in front of you. But, with that sweet mouth sliding around his fingers like that he wasn’t sure he truly cared anymore.


Stephen’s voice was heavy with desire, and you smiled widely, hiding your face between the lieutenant’s neck. You wondered when they’d get around to just letting themselves seek pleasure in each other even when with you. As far as you were concerned, this only made these moments that more pleasurable.

Stephen groaned at the loss of that tongue flicking around his fingers, and he watched as Newt licked his lips, teasing him further. But, he kept his wits about him, swallowing that lump in his throat as he shifted closer. He spread your legs wider, giving himself room to join Newt in pleasuring you.

Both men kissed you, one on the lips, the other on your shoulder trying to distract you from the initial feeling of Stephen pushing inside of you as well.


You clutched Stephen’s jacket, the feeling of being stretched by them both causing a jolt of pain to shoot up your spine. And yet, the idea of it all was enough to make you ease up, wanting to feel both their cocks thrust into you and bring you to completion.

“Bloody hell-”

Newt growled as Stephen’s cock joined his inside your warmth, the feeling of the older man’s length rubbing into his making him want to lose it right then. But, he muffled his moans into your back, grabbing a hold of your hips as he made you lay still.

You let out the breath you were holding, whimpering out as you dropped your forehead against Stephen’s chest. Both men were panting by now, wanting to move but not wanting to hurt you all the same.

“Are you alright?” Stephen whispered into your ear, nuzzling your cheek. You smiled up at him, nodding your head softly as you begged them both to move.

Newt looked at Stephen, his breath quickening when the lieutenant’s eyes met his. They slowly started to move inside you, finally syncing their rhythms as they thrust up and down. By this point, the room was filled with the sound of all your moans and groans, each of you giving into the sensations and wanting more. Newt reached over and grasped Stephen’s jacket, looking at him with such a passion as he pulled him forward.

Their lips crashed into each other, and Stephen finally caved into his desires as he forced his tongue into Newt’s mouth. They kept up their pace, sliding in and out of you as they massaged each other’s tongues. You were far too busy moaning and mumbling out both their names you didn’t even pay attention to them. You just needed to feel that moment of bliss your body so desperately longed for.

Stephen cupped Newt’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone as he growled deep into the kiss. He had made up his mind somewhere, that once he was done with you he’d be doing the same thing to his soldier.

“Fuck…” Stephen gasped against Newt’s mouth, shutting his eyes tightly as your walls clenched down around them both. Newt was in no better shape, and he panted out a curse as he came inside of you.

Your body shook with waves of ecstasy, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your orgasm began to wear off. You sagged back against Newt’s chest, his lips connecting with your sweaty forehead as he smiled.

“Good show, love.”

You giggled, looking back at him as he slowly pulled out of you. Stephen grinned at the younger man’s words, holding your hips gently as he did the same and slipped out.

The lieutenant was still very much in need of relief, but he didn’t press either of you for it. He laid back against the bed, smiling in his current state of bliss.

You looked down at him, noticing his length was still at attention, and you wanted him to reach that perfect high Newt and you already had. With a smirk, you tilted your head back, whispering something to the soldier that Stephen didn’t quite hear or pay attention to.

You lifted yourself up, untangling yourself from Newt’s arms as you straddled the lieutenant’s head. Stephen raised his eyebrow at you, lips lifting at the corner in amusement.

“What are you planning?

You grabbed the headboard in both hands, spreading your legs more and putting your sex on full display for Stephen to see.

“Come on, lieutenant…”

He chuckled at your needy nature, but he ran his hands up your thighs, getting a hold of your waist as he lifted his head. He opened his mouth, tongue coming out as he wasted no time in licking a path up your cunt.

Your nails dug into the headboard, head tilted back as he licked and lapped at your wet folds. Newt looked up at you, smiling when you winked down at him. He rose to his hands and knees, climbing down the bed and hovering just over Stephen’s lap. He glanced up at his superior, licking his lips before he leaned down.

Stephen sucked around your clit, pulling you down more onto his face as you rolled your hips above him. He hungrily buried his face into you, his cock only twitching with need. He was going to reach down and finish himself off, but he released your swollen clit from his lips and gasped out in pleasure.

His head fell onto the pillow, eyes staring up at you as Newt licked around the head of his length.

“Scamander what are-”


You smiled down at Stephen, shushing away his slight discomfort as if to say you knew he wanted this. He simply chuckled, his laugh quickly turning into a drawn out moan as Newt hollowed his cheeks and sucked around him. Stephen closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the younger man’s mouth around his cock. He gripped your waist once more, pulling you back down and continuing to eat you out. He growled into your heat, bucking his hips up into Newt’s mouth. He was growing closer by the minute, and he muffled as many moans of his as he could against your inner thighs, but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Newt definitely knew how to work his mouth.

The younger man pressed his tongue against the underside of Stephen’s length, his hand curling around him to stroke up and down. The feeling of both lips and hand was slowly drawing Stephen into a mess, and it wasn’t long before you came again, riding out your orgasm astride the lieutenant’s face. He lapped up your juices eagerly, making sure to completely get it all before he too succumbed to his desires.

Newt slid his lips off Stephen, swallowing his seed before wiping at his chin. He took his spot next to you both again, all of you completely spent and sweaty from your love session.

You stretched out on the bed, muscles beginning to relax as the endorphins rushed through them. You curled up next to Stephen, closing your eyes as sleep began to claim you.

The lieutenant kissed your temple, reaching over to the small desk he had and grabbing his cigarette and lighter. He lit the end of it, enjoying the long drag he took. He blew out the smoke, curling his arm around you and tapping Newt on the arm. The soldier looked down at Stephen’s hand, taking the cigarette that was being offered to him.

Newt placed it between his lips, letting it hang there for a second as he rose up and buttoned up his pants again. He slicked his hair back, grabbing his hat from the table and placing it back on his head. He took a quick puff of the cigarette, before handing it back to his superior, and bowing slightly.

“Sir.” He spoke up, giving his regards before heading towards the exit of the tent to get back to work. Stephen watched him go with a smile on his face, knowing he’d be coming around tonight again.


Wowwwww that’s quite possibly the smuttiest shit I’ve written. Lol Ugh. I don’t even know if any of that made sense…..I was so confused half the time. If it did make sense and you liked it, let me know 😂

The Future/(is now)

I can’t believe this is something I saw with my own two eyeballs, because apparently all that’s happened so far wasn’t coincidence, or carelessness - apparently Dabb watched Season 8 and made a deliberate bet with someone - he’d make it gayer, or else. And so here it is, (almost) out of the subtext (Sorry, Dean and You can’t just go dark like that. We didn’t know what happened to you. We were worried. That’s not okay and I needed to come back here with a win for you and We’re just better together and I’d like that and THE TAAAAAAAPE). Honest to God, I think I read twenty versions of that fight yesterday as people scrambled to write pre-codas out of nerves and excitement, and they were all magnificent and yet, somehow, less shippy and less obvious and less romantic than what actually happened on the show, wtf? And Dean sulking in his room, Cas knocking at his door, hesitating, coming in? 

I swear to God - when Dean called him back, when he started telling Cas all those things - for a second, I actually believed he would yank on Cas’ tie and kiss him, because that’s always, always what happens in that scenario. Or, you know, Dean gets overwhelmed by his own feelings, by how much he’s just showed his hand here, and walks away. That’s also textbook fanfiction, and yeah, so it’s fluff instead of angst, but, come on - this is Supernatural - did anyone doubt it’d be angsty? Let’s just hope in a happy ending, because that Kelly voiceover (I love you. But we won’t ever be together. There is no happy ending for either of us.) gave me the creeps.

And what about the mind control, someone might argue. Mind control, schmind control. That’s like, the number one Prove that you love me forever and ever trope, and even if we’ve seen it before (if simply because Destiel has been built with every single love trope in the book, and, in this case, they used it over and over and over again), we’ve never seen its final form. During the crypt scene, Cas deflected instead of admitting the obvious (let’s be generous: maybe he didn’t know himself), and in the Bunker, Dean just barely managed not to kill Cas, and had to walk away before the Mark overpowered him, so no, that was not a good time either. So this thing we’ve been promised for a while - this My love for you is stronger than time or tide or evil curse - is yet to come, and with the way things are going, I’m feeling pretty optimistic.

Also: however Dean will read this when he wakes up, Cas is choosing love, and he’s choosing free will. He went to Heaven hoping they’d have a way out of this mess so that Sam and Dean would be safe, he stole the Colt so they couldn’t face Dagon and be hurt (which is text, by the way, not subtext), he went against orders because he felt that was the right thing to do (a human feeling, because angels are created for a mission), he stayed away from Sam and Dean to protect them - all of that is unangelic behaviour, and man, Dean and Cas are going to get into so many fights, aren’t they, because Cas learned how to love from Dean, and that means he’s got that same kind of stubborn, maternal, overbearing way to love Dean has, which means lots of I didn’t tell you because I love you and I walked away because I love you and I booped you to sleep because I love you and I really hope Sam’s going to stay out of the way, because there will be a lot of storming through corridors and huffing and outrage and Can you believe that bastard and it will be absolutely glorious.

As for the rest of it - though, to be perfectly honest, I barely noticed a ‘rest of it’ because my eyeballs were glued to the unbelievable Gay Feelfest unfolding in front of me - I’m really happy with it. I’m happy we’re finally talking Big Things again - Could either of you kill an innocent, do our parents determine our destiny, is there such a thing as innate character, and so on - and I’m happy with the insight we were given both in Kelly’s and in Dagon’s minds, and why they do what they do. I loved every scene Cas and Kelly had together, that kind of, We’re not heroes, and we may be worthless, but we’re what’s left vibe, and Cas’ smile when the baby was kicking, and I like where they’re going, how they’ll try to get this pregnancy to term. Sure, this baby’s got a lot against him - he’s Lucifer’s kid (although, we still don’t know who and what Lucifer was before he was forced to carry the Mark), and one of his temper tantrums could possibly destroy the Earth, but, then again, so could a lot of other things - he’s not special (to quote a famous tumblr post). And if we’re going with free will and self-determination of our own destiny, then we should have the courage not to nitpick: everyone should be able to decide for themselves, and this baby is no exception. 

(I mean, think about it. He’s clearly able to give anyone extraordinary powers - he gave Cas enough ammo to take down a bloody Prince of Hell - so he could have chosen anyone as his protector. He could have picked Dagon, he could have stuck with Kelly, he could have chosen any lesser demon or angel or random doctor they’ve been in contact with over the last few weeks - and yet he chose Cas, and Cas - as we’ve known for a while - is the curiosity, the abomination, the miracle: the angel who can love. No, I want to believe we’re headed towards good things here - narratively or otherwise.)

Final point: again, I know it’s not ideal to carry around a nuclear warhead in your belly, but the beginning of this episode gave me heavy The Handmaiden’s flashbacks (superb show, by the way, go watch it), so the fact they’re giving Kelly some kind of choice - that’s uplifting. Because yeah, maybe she’s slightly brainwashed, but this isn’t like any kind of brainwash I’ve ever seen on the show, because both Kelly and Cas are also lucid, completely themselves. They resemble most closely what Dean was like when he lost his memories, and I think now I’m going to go and cry forever at the implications. But hey, at least Cas’ got his own room at the Bunker and Yes, dumbass - we

anonymous asked:

HELLO. I'M BACK. (Ok, this is only my second time requesting but that's ok.) It's the Anon who requested the Taehyung x reader that accidentally turned angsty. But it's ok! It was really good! Anyways, I'm back to request 2 + 69 with Jungkook if that's ok. (You two write so well)

Prompt request: “Are you kidding me right now!?” + “You have approximately 5 seconds to get out of my face before I kill you.”

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Humour + Fluff

Summary: You have a paper due in twenty minutes and it’s a stressful time. You prefer to work at the library, because your university’s computers run much faster than your cheap laptop. Unfortunately, someone else seems to appreciate the technology and appears to be playing League of Legends on your computer.

Word count: 945 words

You might have shed a few tears when you noticed you were missing a citation on your twenty-page paper that was due in twenty minutes. But you definitely did cry when you realized you referenced an actual book instead of a website.

Shooting up from your chair, you received a few concerned glances from the students around you. Paying them no mind, you darted to the second level of the library in an attempt to find the book you had read earlier that week.

As you wandered aimlessly through the shelves, you checked the time on your watch. You had fifteen minutes left. Cold sweat dripped down your back as you searched for the ancient history section.

Finally, you found the section (it was actually on the third floor) with twelve minutes left. If you recalled correctly, you were fairly certain that the book you referenced was red. And that was all you knew.

Your breathing quickened as you scanned the shelves, examining every red book in the section. Glancing briefly at your watch, you realized you only had seven minutes left. Returning to the task at hand with renewed vigour, you dove towards the nearest red book. Once you pulled it from the shelf, you finally recognized the cover.

“Thank god,” you practically sobbed. Clutching the book to your chest, you darted back the main level of the library, nearly tripping down the stairs as you went. An imaginary clocked ticked away in your head.

You reached your computer with four minutes to spare.

But there was a slight problem.

A boy was sitting at your computer, his large frame hunched towards the monitor. His fingers danced over the keyboard and he clicked the mouse furiously. He had a hood pulled over his mess of brown hair, and from what you could see, he was biting his lip as he focused on the screen in front of him.

And what was he so focused on? This boy was literally playing League of Legends on your computer.

“Are you kidding me right now!?” you shrieked, slamming the book onto the desk beside the boy. He jumped in surprise, eyes widening as he turned to look up at you.

“Uh, I can explain–”

You cut the boy off mid-sentence, grabbing him by the front of his hoodie.

“You have approximately 5 seconds to get out of my face before I kill you,” you hissed, feeling slightly frenzied due to your rapidly approaching deadline and a chronic lack of sleep.

The boy quickly shut off the game and jumped from the seat. He moved aside, eyes cast down. You didn’t bother sitting. Luckily, the boy hadn’t signed out of your account, so you pulled up your assignment. You grabbed your book and located the publication information and relevant page numbers as fast as you could.

In the end, you submitted your paper online with thirty seconds to spare.

When you turned to collect your belongings from where you had scattered them earlier, you were surprised to see that the League-playing boy was still there.

“Uh, I-I can explain that,” he stammered nervously, light pink dusting his cheeks. “But I just wanted to say sorry–I didn’t realize you had to submit a paper.”

You smiled, feeling a little bad for scaring the other student. Upon closer inspection, you realized he was quite good looking. He had large eyes, a strong nose, and a full lower lip, which was bright red from all the nervous biting.

“I’m not going to say it’s fine, because who the fuck plays League in the library?” you laughed, pleased to see the boy relax a little. “But I didn’t mean to freak out that much. Just…stressed, you know?”

“Who plays League–period,” the boy snorted, almost to himself. He looked somewhere else in the library, his expression pained. “My friends dared me to do that.”

You followed his line of vision, settling on two other boys who sat at another row of computers. They were laughing hard, receiving annoyed looks from the people around them. One of them had a wide, rectangular smile and the other had little crescent eyes.

You realized all these boys were ridiculously cute, and wondered if all good-looking people just automatically became friends. Eventually, you turned back to the offending boy, whose expression had become sour.

“I just have to say one more thing before I leave,” the boy said with a long-suffering sigh. He met your eyes, inhaling slowly and blushing even more. “W-wanna come back to my base and check out my Needlessly Large Rod?”

You stared up, wide-eyed, at the boy in front of you. In the distance, you could hear the sound of unrestrained laughter. The boy covered his face with his hands, and after a moment of shock, you burst out laughing.

Tears streaked down your cheeks as you laughed uncontrollably. You wiped them away hastily as the boy glanced back at you, surprised. Eventually, you were able to compose yourself.

“Wow, I’m swooning,” you giggled. After a week of stress, you finally felt the tension slipping away.

“Thanks,” the boy cringed. He glanced at his friends and then back at you. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. Sorry we had to meet like this.”

“I’m Y/N,” you replied with an easy smile. “And it’s fine. You left quite an impression.”

A few weeks later, you were dragged to your university’s video game club’s weekly meeting. It turned out that Jungkook and his two friends (who later introduced themselves as Jimin and Taehyung) made up the club’s executive team.

That day, Jungkook asked you out with another lame League of Legends inspired pick-up line.

You accepted his proposition without a second thought.

- Girl in Luv

Oh my GOD I HATE MYSELF. Why do I always reference lame ass things? Is LoL even relevant anymore?? Anyway…thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed! Our requests are still open, so check out our prompts page if you’re interested! Happy reading~

louisvuittontrashbags  asked:

Are requests now officially open? Cause a bitch has a real need for your Gladio HCs... I'm so in love with your writing already, so glad Saph introduced you to us!! 💖

Well a bitch can deliver, my good friend. Let’s just dive right in. <3 
(Also thank you! It’s so nice to be here.)


  • Gladio has a fondness for giving stuffed animals as gifts. He did give Iris her beloved Moogle doll, so don’t be surprised if you come home one day to a teddy bear or a chocobo plush on your bed with a sweet note or a box of assorted chocolates. (And he does the exact same thing on your anniversary, only instead of chocolates, there’s a beautiful ring, and when you turn around, he’s taken a knee behind you.)
  • He’s fond of shooting you little texts reminding you that he’s thinking of you, or sometimes a picture of something he snapped on a whim. And quite a few selfies. 
  • He’s really fond of picking his partner up and spinning them around, but he’ll usually give you a warning before he does this unless he knows you’re comfortable with being surprised. 
  • He loves having his hair played with. Lying on your lap with a book, hair splayed over your thighs while you run your fingers through it is an ideal way to relax. Sometimes he’ll forgo the book and just nap on you instead for a bit. 
  • He’s a light sleeper - necessary, when you’re a bodyguard, so if you get up in the middle of the night for any reason, expect him to be right behind you, making sure you’re alright. If you can’t sleep, he’ll plop down on the couch with you and pull you into his arms, rubbing your back to at least relax you, if not put you back to sleep. Maybe he’ll even sing to you a bit (but that’s like seeing a unicorn).
  • He loves taking you out on walks – even if it’s just out in the castle gardens for a few moments, just to breathe in fresh air and be with you. He’ll stick right by you and let your hands brush, sometimes taking it and stealing a kiss when no one’s looking.
  • He knows he’s an attractive guy, and that someone might try to get his attention, but once he can tell someone’s flirting with him, an arm’s immediately going around you and pulling you close, partially to tell the person that he’s taken and partially to assure you that you’re the only one he’s got his eye on.
  • Speaking of PDA, he’s a very affectionate guy. If you’re not, that’s okay, he’ll restrain himself, but be prepare to be loved on behind closed doors, my friend.

The behind closed doors line is a good place to move into this next section…


Keep reading

i’ll always be by your side, don’t you worry

FRIENDS I DID IT. i took matters into my own hands and i present you with the Thing™ . the Amy’s-Reaction-To-Jake’s-Beard-Thing™ . it’s long and i sort of went on a tangent but??? i’m happy with how it turned out & i hope u like it too. also i got 1.5k followers this week wtf i love u all thanks for followin’ :)

This would be so much more comfortable with a cushion, Amy thinks to herself as she sits on the cold metal chair.

But cushions are luxury in prison and prisons aren’t supposed to be luxurious. Prisons are for criminals - hard, angry, dirty criminals. So why was she here again?

Oh yeah. Her boyfriend was framed for bank robbery. That’s right.

Keep reading

prettypettypansexual  asked:

SO I HAD A THOUGHT AND IM GIVING IT TO YOU BECAUSE YOURE THE BEST!!! So any soulmate au where once the youngest one turns 18 you find out who the other is OK SO the day before his, Enjolras decides he doesn't want his life dictated by pre-determined rules, so he impulsively marries his boyfriend, Grantaire. As soon as they wake up the next morning, they see that [enter whatever soulmate au: tattoos, quotes, whatever] matches.

[Shhh, you’ll make me blush. I’ve never written a soulmark au! Here it goes:]

“Are you really sure about this?” Jehan asks doubtfully.

Yes,” Enjolras says firmly.

“Believe me, Jehan,” Combeferre says with a slight grimace. “This is already the toned down version of this plan.”

“He wanted to get married, today,” Grantaire says, grinning lovingly at his obstinate boyfriend.

“Isn’t there a two week waiting period after you register a marriage?” Jehan frowns.

“Yes, yes there is,” Combeferre says. “And with good reason.” That earns him a scoff from Enjolras.

“So tattoos it is,” Grantaire grins widely.

“Alright,” Jehan laughs. “I do think it’s super sweet.”

Enjolras gives them an enquiring look. “You don’t approve though,” he says. He doesn’t sound accusing or resentful, he’s just asking.

Jehan hums vaguely, putting the appropriate paperwork down in front of their friends. “I have good reason to be fond of soulmarks,” they say and their hand absentmindedly passes across their heart. Just above the low collar of their shirt the top of the letter M is visible. “But you guys were obviously meant to be together.” They smile. “And chosen soulmarks… That’s just too romantic for me to object to. I love it.”

Enjolras looks content and Grantaire grins. They sign the paperwork and hand it back to Jehan.

“Right!” Jehan beams. “Let’s get you ready for some ink then.”

Keep reading

Magic Tricks - Drarry

A/N: soooo, I'm like /kinda/ buzzed, but not entirely. and I just wrote this, and it might be very bad, but I hope you like it

“WE’RE PLAYING THIS!” Draco exclaimed loud enough to make Harry tumble off of his bed in sheer surprise as Draco obliviously waved around a box of playing cards in the air.

“Merlin, Malfoy. Lower your voice would you?” Harry gasped, clutching at his heart as Draco swayed and turned towards him with an exaggerated eyeroll.

Without saying a word Draco plopped himself onto Harry’s bed, leaning lazily against his pillows. His eyes were hooded and he had a stupid, dazed smile on his lips and rosy cheeks.

How Draco had managed to find his way back to their dorm after getting so wasted was beyond Harry, but he was reasonably annoyed by it. He just wanted to go to bed but now he had to play babysitter to his former-enemy-now-roommate, Draco Malfoy.

“Exploding Snaps.” Draco insisted, nodding to himself. He opened the box of cards and turned it over, watching with delight as the cards fell out into a messy pile on Harry’s bed. “Get up, Potter!”

“Those are muggle cards.” Harry sighed, exasperated as he stood up and brushed himself off before sitting on the foot of his bed, annoyed that Draco had now taken up his personal sleeping area. All he wanted to do was sleep. “You can’t play Exploding Snaps with them.”

Draco’s expression faltered and he pouted, staring inquisitively at Harry, “Why not?”

“Because they neither explode nor snap.” Harry rolled his eyes.

And then, something entirely unexpected happened.

“Malfoy?” Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise, sitting up straighter, leaning in slightly. “What? What is it? Why are you doing that?”

Draco didn’t respond. Instead he continued to rub at his face, shake his head, and mutter absolute gibberish to himself in a desperately sad tone.

“Malfoy!” Harry huffed, reaching forward, grabbing Draco’s wrists, and pulling his hands from his face. His eyes widened. “Why are you crying?”

“You think I’m so STUPID!” Draco exclaimed dramatically. He tried to throw his arms up into the air, but he was restrained by Harry’s hands on his wrists and, instead, he did a weird sort of spasm. “I am not a muggle! I do not understand some things sometimes, but that’s okay! I don’t have to be PERFECT! I don’t need your sodding APPROVAL!”

“Jesus Christ.” Harry muttered to himself, releasing Draco’s wrists to rub at his temples in exhaustion. When he found out that he and Draco Malfoy would be rooming together their eighth and final year at Hogwarts, he certainly had not expected this. “You’re wasted, Malfoy. Just go to sleep.”

“I’M NOT TIRED!” Draco shouted, sounding uncannily like a toddler, in Harry’s personal opinion. Draco pushed the pile of cards at Harry, not noticing as several fell to the ground and under the bed, “I want to play with these! Make them magic!”

“Fine.” Harry huffed, picking up the cards and shuffling them into an orderly pile, “But it’ll be muggle magic.”

Draco blinked at him. “What?”

Harry didn’t answer, instead he pushed the deck of cards towards Draco. “Pick a card.”

Keep reading

Nemesis Mine

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5. Simon.

It’s getting late, and I’m tired and desperate to go home. Baz has been acting quiet and sullen all day, and I want to check on him and make sure everything’s okay. I’ve been flying around all afternoon saving kids from drowning in lakes and rescuing hikers trapped in the forest and I even flew someone’s cat down from a tree. Sometimes being a superhero is a lot less exciting than people might think.

I’m almost back to the Watford campus when I see a group of people outside a bar that I immediately get a bad feeling about. I fly lower and land on the roof. There’s a group of tough-looking men and women who have someone cornered by the back door. My tail starts swishing behind me and I’m about to leap into the fray when I hear shouts and the sound of pounding feet.

A girl has broken out of the group and is running for her life, blonde hair swinging behind her. She’s clutching something that I realise must be pepper spray. She’s wearing heels and a dress that I suddenly recognise – it’s Agatha.

One of the men has started chasing her. I leap down from the building but before I even make it to the ground, a blurry shape rushes past me and seems to collide with him. There’s a brief scuffle and then the guy is lying on the ground, unconscious.

I catch a glimpse of him before he goes after the rest of the group. Basilton Pitch. Of course, this kind of thing is usually his job. I leave him to it and fly after Agatha.

‘Agatha –’ Shit. I almost forgot that she doesn’t know it’s me. And if Basilton heard me call her by name, he might be able to figure out who I am. I can’t let him have the upper hand.

I don’t know whether or not she heard me, but she only runs faster, which finally makes her trip over her heels and fall on her face (I’m surprised she ran so fast in those things). I land next to her.

‘It’s just me,’ I say, bending to help her up.

She looks relieved. ‘Snow. Great. Thank you.’ She throws a panicked glance over her shoulder, still breathing hard.

We both get a shock when Basilton suddenly appears in front of us.

‘Are you hurt?’ he says to her, his voice icy cold.

‘I’ve got it under control,’ I butt in.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, Snow,’ he growls.

‘I’m fine,’ Agatha says. ‘Just shaken.’

He nods curtly and starts to walk away.

‘Hey,’ I call, ‘where are you going?’

‘She says she’s fine,’ he says without turning around.

‘Your job isn’t done! Aren’t you going to make sure she actually gets home safely?’

He stops walking and turns around with a sigh. ‘Why would she need me when she has the great heroic Snow?’

‘But it’s your job,’ I say stubbornly. Why is he acting like such a villain? He usually at least pretends to care about anyone he rescues.

‘Why are you even here, then?’

‘I was just in the area.’ Fuck, now he’ll know I live nearby. ‘There was an incident. With a cat. Near here.’

‘Right,’ he says, the scorn heavy in his voice. ‘A cat. So that’s what the mighty and revered superhero does with his time.’

My tail is twitching behind me. It does that when I’m agitated. Of course Basilton notices.

‘Are you going to strangle me with that tail of yours?’ he taunts. ‘Or are you going to fly up and drop me off a building, like your father did to my –’

I slam into him (as if I’m responsible for my father’s actions) and try to punch him in the jaw (it was an accident, why can’t he accept that, of course Davy didn’t mean to) and he ducks out of the way (I’m so tired of him taking everything out on me and it’s not like he hasn’t killed people too). We’re circling each other in the middle of a deserted alleyway.

‘Go on,’ he says. ‘Don’t you have better things to do than fight me?’

I’m seeing red, and I want to tell him that he’s a villain and that makes it my job to fight him, but I remember Agatha watching us and tell myself to calm down. Agatha’s my friend. I don’t want her to see this, even if she doesn’t know that it’s me.

‘Fine,’ I spit. ‘I’ll make sure she’s safe, since you don’t seem to care.’

He shakes his head. ‘This isn’t over.’

‘It’s never over, is it, nemesis mine.’ (It pisses him off when I call him that, which is the only reason why I do it.) I turn around and walk back to Agatha, who’s been watching us with barely concealed curiosity. And possibly some contempt.

‘I can get home by myself,’ she says to me.

‘I know. I’m going the same way.’

‘How do you know where I’m going?’

I shrug. ‘Just a gut feeling.’


I shed my disguise on the roof of the building as usual and make my way down to room 61. At least I escaped without any injuries this time, so Baz won’t ask any questions.

I try to get back into my regular uni student Simon headspace before going into the room. I remember last night, when I fell asleep on Baz’s bed and he tucked me in and we swapped beds for the night. I remember sitting right up close to him as we watched the movies. I can’t remember what either movie was about, I was too busy noticing how it felt to have him so close to me. Too busy imagining all the different ways he might react if I leaned over and kissed his cheek, or if I reached over and started playing with his hair, or if I laced our fingers together.

I didn’t do any of those things, obviously. But I want to. I want to do more than that. Today though, in all the classes we shared and in the afternoon, he was withdrawn. He barely spoke to me unless I spoke to him first. I wonder if he regrets sleeping in my bed last night. If he thinks we crossed a line that he didn’t want us to cross.

I take a deep breath before turning my key in the lock and shoving open the door. Baz is on his bed fiddling with his phone. He doesn’t look up when I come in.

‘Where were you?’ he asks.

‘I – um – with Agatha,’ I blurt. (It’s technically true.)

His face remains expressionless. ‘I see,’ he says.

I sit on the edge of my bed, facing him.

‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.

He looks up and raises an eyebrow. ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?’

‘It’s just…’ I frown. ‘You’re being distant.’

‘Am I?’

‘If it’s about yesterday…’


I roll my eyes. ‘Come on, Baz. You know. Me sleeping in your bed.’ I’m probably blushing. Fuck. He must know how I feel.

‘It wasn’t a big deal, Simon,’ he says.


‘You said you were fine with it,’ he says, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

‘I – I was,’ I stammer. ‘I am.’

‘What’s the problem, then?’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Is this because you were with Agatha? Because it’s not like we –’

Oh. Oh. Agatha. My ex.

‘No,’ I blurt out, cutting him off. ‘I mean, I wasn’t with Agatha, not like… you know. We’re just friends. I mean, it’s been months, and we’re really close, but we’re definitely – we’re just friends.’

He waits for me to stop rambling. ‘Sure, Simon,’ he says. ‘And you’re okay with that?’

‘Yeah, I’m – yeah, totally,’ I say. I rub my hand over my eyes. ‘I mean, I’m not interested in Agatha anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.’ I hesitate, biting my lip. ‘I’m actually – I might be interested in someone else.’

I peek up at him and – he’s smiling, this tiny, private smile like he’s trying not to let me see it, but I do see it, and I want to walk over there and kiss it off his lips. Instead, I blush madly, grab my pyjamas and rush out the door.

anonymous asked:

Okay but imagine Derek and stiles bein losers and sharing hot chocolate and Derek gets whip cream in his beard and stiles losing his shit and Derek is oblivious


What if they’re not together right? What if Stiles is standing in front of Derek’s door, hands shaking as he knocks. He’s hoping Derek will think it’s because of the cold and not because he’s nervous, but he’s probably projecting his anxiety all over the place. 

“Stiles?” Derek says, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He’s wearing sweatpants and a soft-looking t-shirt and his toes are bare and shit. Stiles feels his heart skip a beat. “Why are you here? It’s like-” Derek turns around, squinting as he looks at the clock on the wall, “six in the morning.”

Stiles swallows. He doesn’t exactly have an explanation for that other than I really wanted to see you. “Um, I brought hot chocolate?” he says, holding up the cup. He hadn’t even bought it for Derek, and he’s already drunk half of it, but Derek motions for him to go in anyway.

“Sorry for coming in so early,” he continues, trying not to get distracted as he watches the slope of Derek’s shoulders. “I just - I wanted to check in on you, I guess.” 

Derek sits down on the couch, slumping down in the seat. “Give me the hot chocolate and all is forgiven.”

And then, like he thought Stiles wasn’t going to give him the hot chocolate, he makes grabby hands. Stiles almost trips in his eagerness to hand it to him. The corner of Derek’s mouth curls up in a lazy smirk as he sips the - probably lukewarm - hot cocoa. Stiles doesn’t mind; he’s used to his embarassment being Derek’s amusement. 

At least Derek doesn’t slam him into walls anymore.

Then again, he might beg soon if Derek doesn’t slam him into a wall. 

He sits down next to Derek, careful to remain some distance between them, like that’ll help Stiles get his self-control back. It’s always been a kind of problem around Derek, that lack of self-control. Stiles permanently feels like he’s falling towards Derek, but here and now, with Derek half-asleep and sipping hot chocolate like it’s usual Stiles is there at six in the morning paints such a wonderfully domestic picture that Stiles’ heart throbs. 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to break this comfortable silence, but it disappears in a snort. Derek raises an eyebrow. 

“You-” Stiles says, trying not to laugh, motioning towards Derek’s beard. “You have, uh-”

“Oh,” Derek says, trying to wipe it off. Stiles is almost certain his cheeks flush. He’s so tempted to just hug Derek and keep him there forever. “Is it gone?”

There’s still a bit near the corner of Derek’s mouth, and Stiles knows he should probably tell Derek where it is, but instead he leans forward and wipes it away himself. Derek’s beard feels nice against his fingers, and he smiles faintly, rubbing over it. He only realizes what he’s doing when Derek’s breath hitches.

Shit, he hadn’t even realized how close this would put them. He can count Derek’s eyelashes from here, see how big his pupils have gotten. He’s so fucking beautiful. Stiles absentmindedly swipes his thumb over Derek’s bottom lip, staring as he pulls it down a little. Derek’s hands twitch. 

“Stiles-” Derek chokes out. “Stiles, I-”

He jumps back immediately. “Sorry, oh my god, I don’t know-”

He’s already scrambling back. He should’ve known his feelings weren’t reciprocated, not by Derek, and now he’s ruined everything. Fuck, he needs to get out of here. 

He stops when Derek’s hand circles his wrist. “No, Stiles, sit down. Please.”

His mind stops at that, the soft plea, the warm yet worried look in Derek’s eyes. He lets Derek tug him back down onto the couch, lets him wind his arm around Stiles’ shoulders. “Me too,” Derek whispers, hugging him close. “Me too.”

anonymous asked:

Yea....I'm gonna hide from horrortale in the tall sink and never come out again.

(*Horror warning, kinda.  I took this and ran with it.  Set in Underground Horrortale instead of the lodge. )

When you go into the tall sink, you think you’re safe, shrouded by darkness save the dim light framing the cabinet door.  Surely, they can’t eat you here, right?  

Your foot shuffles backward, and you hear a crunching noise beneath your shoe.  Oh yeah–Papyrus keeps his bone attacks beneath the sink.  You must have stepped on one of them.

…. Were they always so brittle?   Did they always sound so small?

Swallowing hard around the apprehension and unease knotting in your throat, you attempt to remain as still as possible to assuage your fright.  This was a good idea; you’re safe.  Surely, the skelebros don’t even bother with what’s under the sink anymore.  You can wait until they fall asleep (do they even sleep anymore?  You try not to dwell too hard on the fact that Papyrus rarely slept to begin with and Sans is a night-owl) and then sneak out of their house.  Maybe they keep some food in their shed–maybe…

You hear something move behind you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle the startled shout that desperately wants to rip through you.  Your eyes are wide, but you can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder, to gaze into the darkness.  

No, you’re too afraid of what eldritch horror might be staring back at you.

Another moment passes, then another.  Slowly, you start to breathe again, the tight grip on your mouth relaxing.  Your fingers are trembling, but there’s nothing but silence beneath the sink.  You must have imagined it, or maybe you had knocked a bone attack loose.

But then you hear it again, the sound of claws scraping against wood, followed by a low growl.  More than that, you feel a humid puff of breath against your neck, and against your better judgement, you whirl around to face whatever’s beneath the sink with you.  

All you can see are two eyes in the darkness–(some sort of animal, your terrified mind numbly supplies) before you throw yourself backward, hoping to break out of the sink.  Your back hits the door, but…

It doesn’t budge.  

The air rushes from your lungs, and since the flight option has been taken away, you immediately begin feeling around the bottom of the sink, trying to find one of Papyrus’s bones to fend off this beast.  However, what you feel isn’t right.  His attacks are much bigger than these bones.  Your fingers catch on something round, then dip inside a hole on the object– and you’re unable to silence the shriek that tears past your lips when you realize it’s a skull.  Frantically, you start wiping your hands on the front of your shirt and banging your back against the door.  

He isn’t keeping his attacks beneath the sink anymore.

The creature before you is still standing there, only its growling has become louder.  You suddenly remember your phone and fumble to get it out of your pockets, your fingers trembling so much that it seems like the simple act takes an eternity.   Miraculously, the creature doesn’t attack you in the midst of pressing the home button on your phone to illuminate your lock screen.  You face it away from you, and when the light hits the creature, your heart bottoms out into your stomach.

The fur that was once white is now a motley gray, matted and unkempt.  Saliva drips in thick strands from its maw, which is stained a dark crimson, and its lips are curled back from its jagged, razor-sharp teeth.  It’s as large as a wolf, only much fluffier, and its snout not nearly as long.  Bones litter the floor around its feet, but that’s not what grabs your attention.  No, you can’t help but lift your phone slightly, aiming your light beyond the Annoying Dog.

To your surprise, the area beneath the tall sink stretches, a mere corridor leading to the inside of a cavern.  What was once a shrine of some sort can just barely be seen in the very back, though its dilapidated, the roof mostly caved-in, and various trinkets sprinkled throughout the rubble.    

As the Annoying Dog steps forward, its massive paw crunching through the litter surrounding it with ease, you spot several more pairs of eyes watching you from within the shrine, and your phone slips through your shaking fingers and clatters to the ground.

You were right.

You’re never coming out again.

alondurr  asked:

I'm not sure if it's still valid but What about some Jean/Renee/Allison where Jean wakes up to the sound of Renee and Allison softly bickering about whether or not they should wake Jean up to go to some place they agreed as a date or to rest at home because Jean was feeling bad

Jean never dreams about words, so that’s his anchor when he wakes. He can barely recall the number of times he’s come back to the sound of Renee’s sweet and measured voice talking him down, or Allison’s deeper, more charismatic one saying his name.

He hasn’t even been dreaming this time, though. He comes awake to the soft murmur of talking which he instinctively recognises isn’t aimed at him, and he dozes for a moment revelling in being comfortable and unafraid.

When he lay down to nap it was just Allison with him, chest-to-chest and entangled. Now he can feel Renee’s weight on the mattress behind him, and her fingers very gently toying with his hair.

“We can order in,” Allison is saying. “That might be easiest.”

“We can ask him,” Renee replies, “when he wakes up.”

“No, we can’t. Because he’ll say yes even if he’s still feeling shitty, and then I’ll have to look at his miserable face all evening.”

“So you don’t want to ask him because he might make you feel bad?”

“It won’t make me feel bad, but it would lessen my enjoyment of the experience having to watch him sulk, or better yet pretend not to sulk. Besides, I can rebook it.”

“There’s a three-month waiting list.”

“And I’m Allison Reynolds. There have to be some advantages.”

“You’re going to manipulate them into letting you jump the queue?”

“‘Manipulate’ is a strong word, baby.”

“My face isn’t miserable,” Jean mutters. He’s mostly speaking into Allison’s chest, and clearly they didn’t realise he was awake because there’s a little moment of quiet which is probably the two of them communicating silently over Jean’s head.

“You would be hanging onto that,” Allison tells him, before readjusting so they’re face-to-face. She’s rumpled just a little bit, a pillow crease pushed into the apple of her cheek. “It’s a little bit miserable. Adds charisma.”

“You have a stoic face,” Renee corrects. She’s scratching his scalp now, sending little pleasurable shivers down his spine. “Strong.”

“Sexy,” Allison adds, and then kisses him, a quick press of her mouth to his. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Jean tells her, which is the truth. He’d travelled yesterday and got in late, and this morning it had taken a terrible toll on him dragging himself out of bed. Usually his routine is enough to get him moving, but today it just drained him of the last reserves of his energy. 

Allison, who is on a rest day too, had convinced him to lie down eventually. He thinks he must have fallen asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow. He’s still so tired that his bones hurt, though.

“You want to reschedule?” Allison asks. “I’ll ring them right now and make another date.”

“You would,” Jean tells her, a little amused, and then, “I want to sleep.”

Stating what he wants out loud is a newly relearned skill, as Allison so lovingly pointed out. He’s getting there.

“Hah,” Allison says to Renee, even though it’s not exactly proving her point. She wriggles for a moment - if Jean wasn’t so exhausted that would be interesting, but, well - and then her hand emerges with her phone. She taps it on Jean’s chin very gently. “Powers of the rich and semi-famous.”

Jean kisses her, just a peck, and then rolls over so he’s face-to-face with Renee instead. She’s gently amused and just gentle, the same way she usually is. Her fingers press his hair back from his face, and then she kisses him too.

“Go back to sleep, if you want,” she says over Allison’s industrious organisational voice at his back. “I’ll make soup later.”

Jean hums, focussing instead on wrapping himself around her. She’s shorter than Allison, and softer, less muscle and a hell of a lot more welcoming as a human being. 

“In three days,” Allison tells them after hanging up, planting a smacking kiss on Jean’s nape before winding herself about his back. She’s a little pointy, but she gets full points for effort. “We can have another half-hour, right?”

“Uh huh. Then the athletes amongst us need to eat,” Renee says, her voice humming in Jean’s skull via proximity. “Go to sleep.”

Jean, skin-warm and wanted and sandwiched between them, doesn’t need any more prompting than that.

anvil527up replied to your postpls distract

anakin, obi, and dooku, in the ‘we all chained together’ finding a safe(ish) spot to rest, debating on the ‘we’re ALL tired, but (I) don’t trust you enough to doze off’… cue sleepy confessions and oups moment


ok so this isn’t exactly sleepy confessions… I don’t know what this is?

“Where did they even find that pathetic life form,” Dooku hissed, apparently hovering undecided somewhere between horror and fascination. 

It was hard not to share the sentiment, though, given that Hondo’s compound looked as though it had been reduced to a smoking mountain of slag. Obi-Wan noted, with some relief, that their rescue party had survived—he could see Jar-Jar and the clones in the distance, regrouping at the shuttle that had let them down on Florrum. He’d once despaired of Jar-Jar ever finding his feet, but he was beginning to see the value, more and more often, in his particular brand of 'clumsy’. 

Case in point: the erstwhile pirate compound. For the most part, the pirates seemed to be minding their own business. That business largely involved wandering around, either shell-shocked or drunk, or wondering whether their shipment of spice had survived the rampant destruction. The rescue party—or rather, the party sent to bring the Count into custody—comprised of a Gungan and four clones with the red-striped armour of the Coruscant Guard, didn’t particularly seem inclined to bother them either. 

That was all very well for all of them, Obi-Wan thought (not at all bitterly), but he was on the wrong side of the pirates, hidden behind a rocky outcropping—cold, cramped, and very uncomfortable. Chained, on one side, to Anakin and on the other to Count Dooku, no less. Neither of them made for entirely pleasant company. Anakin, unable to crack the cuffs, was getting restless and frustrated. Dooku was sullen, cynical, and didn’t offer any sort of boost to their morale. He took great pleasure in needling Anakin and antagonising him, which was even more unhelpful. 

Anakin had been fiddling with Obi-Wan’s cuffs for at least an hour. There were five different security measures merely on the face of them, and crossing wires the wrong way would as soon blow Obi-Wan’s hands off as do nothing helpful. Of course Hondo had somehow gotten his hands on these. Obi-Wan was seriously beginning to wonder if he’d made some sort of deal with CSF for them—it wasn’t like the Director was particularly happy about other people playing with CSF’s toys. It was also a bit difficult to imagine that she didn’t know precisely where CSF’s R&D projects ended up. 

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anonymous asked:

Prompt idea: Cute Rucas napping fluff

a/n: thank you so much for the prompt anon!! sorry it took so long to get to you, i was working on another one before this one and then this took me a little longer than anticipated. as requested this is extremely extremely fluffy and i’ll have you know anon, that this lowkey killed me and i’m now blogging from rucas heaven. enjoy! 

word count: 1,398

“I can’t believe you almost fell asleep in my dad’s class.” Riley says, disbelief laced in her tone as she enters her bedroom and dumps her backpack on her desk chair.

“I’m more surprised that he didn’t embarrass me in front of the entire class, that seems to be a favorite pastime of his.” Riley rolls her eyes at her boyfriend’s comment as he follows her lead, entering her bedroom and putting his backpack down on the floor at the foot of her bed. “It’s all your fault you know.”

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Tiny Tony Overlord Part 2

Part I | Read on AO3

Betaed by the amazing @folklejend. All remaining mistakes are my own. Enjoy! :)

Chapter 2: Recap


“Everybody shut up!” Nick Fury yells and finally, for the first time in twelve long, frustrating hours, blessed silence reigns in SHIELD’s headquarters.

With a deep sigh, Fury closes his eye, opens it again, and lets his gaze wander over the assembled people, all of whom belong to the best of the best SHIELD has to offer.

At 4:12 am, his entire organisation is on the brink of total mayhem, all because of one man. Or rather the disappearance of one man. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that said man is Anthony Stark.

“We’ve got a room filled with some the best hackers, analysts, profilers, tacticians and spies in the world,” Fury says after a long moment, just barely restraining himself to keep from screaming. “Now can someone, anyone, explain to me how we’ve lost Iron Man in the middle of New York City with no ideas as to where he is or who might’ve taken him? Anyone?”

This time, the silence is a lot less blessed and a lot more tense.

[continue under the cut]

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“Ideal Moment” 

V x MC, Mystic Messenger

Summary: Jihyun’s expectations on how he would propose marriage to MC, and the reality. V x MC fluff. (1324 words)

Ao3 link

When Jihyun imagined how he would propose to her, he imagined it would be a grand romantic gesture. He envisioned a candlelit dinner, a picnic in the park, or a stroll through a botanical garden. Once he was sure they were alone, he would drop down to one knee in front of her and hold up a ring. He’d explain to her how he’d designed it himself and spent weeks sketching out different versions for his jeweler, making sure the result was nothing less than a perfect reflection of her. He would tell her how much he loved her, as if he didn’t already tell her every day, that he would give her the world if he could, if she would let him. Then he would finally ask if she would marry him.

He had the scenario all planned out, but he had yet to actually do it. He had hoped to do it on one of the trips he took her on: a week in Paris, another in Rome, a weekend getaway to Kyoto. They were places he’d visited on his travels, places he’d long wished to show her. He carried the ring in his pocket on each trip, waiting, searching for the right moment to ask her.

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